I Shouldn't Be Crying
by thecrystalkey
Summary: JackChloe. Posthour 12 of Day 5. Written after watching hour 13. Because Barry should never have stuck his nose in…


**Title:** I Shouldn't Be Crying.  
**Author:** thecrystalkey  
**Summary:** Jack/Chloe. Post-hour 12 of Day 5. Written after watching hour 13. Because Barry should never have stuck his nose in…  
**Spoilers:** Season 5 of 24 (specifically hours 12/13)

**Disclaimer**: Nothing in '24' is mine, especially not the characters that appear or are mentioned here or the plot of Day 5. It all belongs to Twentieth Century Fox, Real Time Productions and its creators Joel Surnow and Robert Cochran.

**Author's Note:** Barry gave me the creeps when he was talking to Chloe. So I'm pretending that scene happened this way.

* * *

She felt her knees give way. She tried to order them to stop, to lock, to keep her upright, but it was like watching from a distance, even as she could feel the tears roll down her cheeks. The rest of the world was just…white noise.

_I shouldn't be crying_, she thought hazily. _I can't feel anything. I shouldn't be crying. If I can't feel anything, why does this hurt so much? Edgar, don't be dead._

But she knew he was. They'd been friends and now they wouldn't be anything ever again. Intellectually she knew there was nothing she could have done. She'd hit the evacuation alarm. She'd told him to get moving, to get out, when he'd called about the alarm. Instead he'd come back to the main floor. But it still hurt that he was dead.

Edgar had been geek; but first and foremost, he'd been a good person. The kind of person that still believed there was good in every person, whose innocence was still somehow untarnished. And there was a part of Chloe O'Brian that deeply believed that good people should be protected. And that it was up to the people who weren't good, but wished they could be, to do that. People like her, people like Jack.

It was why she'd protected Edgar from Driscoll that first month, then from Michelle Dessler when he'd nearly brought the system down in the middle of a crisis; why she'd stood between him and Lynn McGill to argue earlier that afternoon. It was why she had never even contemplated telling him that Jack was really alive. Not that she'd contemplated telling anyone, but if she'd had to, for any reason, it wouldn't have been Edgar. Because it would have put him in danger.

Now he was dead. And beyond the part of her that was grieving for one of the few people she actually considered a friend, another part was also grieving at having failed him so spectacularly.

She knew she was in shock, and she knew that she didn't have time to be, but she couldn't seem to pull herself out of it. Then she realized although that her knees had given way, she hadn't hit the ground.

She became aware of hands on her elbows, supporting her, and a voice speaking her name. Familiar. Jack had caught her, before she ever fell. There was some kind of analogy there, she was sure, but she couldn't process it now. Too much of her brain was occupied with replaying Edgar's face as he began to choke, then slipped behind that desk.

She heard Jack say something about a chair to someone behind them as his arm slipped around her waist. She began to struggle, to turn away from him, away from everybody. Tears were weakness, she'd learned that on the elementary school playground. Nothing she'd learned as an adult had counteracted that lesson. Tears would only be mocked, or pitied. She wanted neither. Especially not from Jack. He wouldn't mock her, but his pity would be worse.

But she didn't have enough control of her rebellious limbs, or the energy, to fight very hard. Not that she'd be able to get away unless he wanted her to; it was Jack, after all. He held her up effortlessly, barely seeming to notice her brief struggle as he managed to get her seated in a chair.

When he crouched in front of her, she turned her face away; wishing now she'd left her hair down. It would have hidden the tears she couldn't seem to stop.

"Chloe. Chloe, look at me."

"No." It came out in a whisper, but it was still a flat refusal.

"Why not?"

She brought her sleeve up to scrub at the wetness on her face. The fact that it helped to hide her face further was just a bonus. "I don't cry in front of other people."

He didn't seem to have an answer to that. He didn't need to. She knew what he really wanted to know.

"I'll be fine, Jack. I just, I need a minute. I'd really prefer it if everyone could just ignore me for a bit."

Two fingers on her jaw and a gentle pressure were all it took to turn her face towards him. The look on his face was one she hadn't seen him wear since that meeting in Chicago six months ago. Deep concern. For her.

"Even if I could do that, I wouldn't," he said softly.

She dropped her eyes before the look in his got her crying harder. She knew he needed her to get back to work, and she was trying. The tears were slowing now and her chest hurt from suppressing the sobs.

Talking would help. It was difficult to talk and cry at the same time. And might reassure Jack enough that she wouldn't have to look at him.

"It's just…embarrassing. And pointless. Crying isn't going to bring him back. Nothing's going to bring him back. But I can't seem to stop."

His thumb moved to brush at the tears on her cheek and she shook her head, pulling it back a little before meeting his eyes. He looked hurt.

"Don't be nice to me, Jack," she pleaded. "If anybody's nice to me right now, I think I might break down completely."

She could see the effort it took him to pull back. And more importantly, the understanding in his eyes. He knew exactly what she meant. That it wasn't a rejection of him, of the comfort he was willing to give even in the midst of crisis. She needed to that distance for now to keep functioning. Pushing all of her emotions away until she had time to deal with the ones trying to overwhelm her. That meant pushing everyone away temporarily.

"Fine. I can't get to Henderson anymore, and the interrogation wasn't working anyway. We need to find the other 17 canisters and the information on Henderson's computer is our only viable lead. I need you back at work." Jack's words were harsh but his tone was gentle. And the focus on work was exactly what she needed to pull herself back together enough to stop the tears.

* * *

_Review. It does a body good._


End file.
